


trust is a valuable thing

by kinpika



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safety and Peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 07:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: Now you are two, in nothing but underwear. Her arms don’t quite cross, before her hands go to cover. “Nat,” you say, smiling, watching how she looks anywhere but you. “Kiss me.” Not a question, barely a request.





	trust is a valuable thing

**Author's Note:**

> Logan POV. Nat belongs to Swan ([ratkingkisses](https://ratkingkisses.tumblr.com))

When you undress, push the material off your shoulders, you’re not afraid. Nat’s gaze is heavy, watching how the shirt drops to the floor, how your pants follow not long after, and how you step out of the pool of clothes.

She’s nervous, rolling her fingers in her hands and clears her throat when you’re close. Taking her hands in yours, you lead them to your shoulders, over the straps of your bra. You can hear the sharp intake, feel how her fingers shake. Press against her mind. _Are you sure?_

With your bra unhooked, you can hear a _god, yes_ , that has you smile a little wider. Whilst the bra drops to the floor, and her hands don't travel any further than your waist, you brush your fingers across her cheeks. Pull her in, kissing slow and steady. Tilt your head just so, tongue brushing against her bottom lip.

And you’re distracting, fingers low. Over the front of her shirt, lightest touch, barely registering in her mind until you reach the hem. Twirling the material, you make a move to push it up and over. There’s a spike, of fear, self depreciation, that you kiss away, trying to make her feel, hear.

You only break, to pull the shirt free of her completely. Throw it over your shoulder, and turning back to smile. Kiss south, down her neck, laving her collarbones with attention. Nip and suck along whatever skin was exposed. Nat’s hands hold you steady, but you can feel under your fingers, your lips, how she’s shaking. Looking up, you note her gnawing on her lower lip.

Nothing stops you from kissing the tension away.

“You can change your mind.” And you want to reassure her of that. Slinging your hands over her shoulders, wrists locked loosely, you need her to _know_.

The longer silence drags, even if it’s mere seconds, you’re ready to step away. To save this moment for another time, when she was ready, completely, no rush. You broadcast those thoughts, thumb stroking her cheek now.

“I want this. I want _you_.”

She’s fierce and electric, pushing against you, walking you back. But the kiss is soft, and her touch is light; you melt under it all the same. Fingers shake, yours and hers, as you trail skin down. Over scars, shared life. Strange, see a myriad of strikes against her skin, and want to kiss, want to touch.

So you do just that, and Nat burns a deep red. Your knees connect with the edge of the bed, and you don’t want to be romantic, but this was the final push. Hands low on Nat’s hips, brushing along the top of her pants. Barely dipping in, as you give her one last, long look.

Nat pushes you back. A little rough, perhaps, judging by how you bounce on the mattress and she looks momentarily shocked, but it doesn’t stop you from grinning. Twisting your fingers in the belt loops, pulling her closer. Closer, closer.

Zipper, pulled down. Quick and practiced movements, but the press of lips against her stomach is all you, as is the way you kiss down, following the exposed skin. Feel Nat shudder under your touch, her hands not sure where to land. Shoulders? Head? Her thoughts escape her, and she settles for helping you remove her pants.

Now you are two, in nothing but underwear. Her arms don’t quite cross, before her hands go to cover. “Nat,” you say, smiling, watching how she looks anywhere but you. “Kiss me.” Not a question, barely a request.

She leans down, while you push up. Distance closed, and this kiss was a little rougher. A little more hasty. You pull the band from her hair, working out the kinks. “I like you like this.”

“I like you like this, too.”

You grin, when you realise she was looking down. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your turn. Turning the two of you around, you encourage her to sit at the edge of the bed. Nat’s hands are unsure, and you take her by the wrists gently. Smile, as you lead her to hold you, and her fingers are rough against your sides, years of work trailing down your skin. Knees either side of her, you press close, closer still. Lean up, just a little, and the flush on her cheeks has your smile spread wicked.

Nat kisses along your shoulders, a solid sweep. While your fingers play with her hair, you listen in. Hear the heartbeat thrum of curses and thanks. You push back, letting her hear, feel. Beautiful _you’resobeautiful Iloveyourhandsyoureyes. your. smile_. She kisses your breasts, hands cupping your ass, pulling you up.

If a noise leaves you, Nat seems to politely ignore it. Tongue brushing over your nipple, and your nails drag along her scalp. “That’s good,” you murmur, when she turns to give the same attention to your other breast.

 _Good_. Solid press against your mind, and you don’t want to sit so solidly like this. You want to give her the same feeling, so your fingers splay across the swell of her chest. Tease, just there, with how you touch, pinch. Nat’s breath comes out with an extra shudder, and you meet her eye. Her lips. Another crushing sort of kiss, where you are bound in her arms.

She leans back, bringing you down with her. Limbs connect, but you laugh anyway. Hold yourself up, hands either side of her face, biting your lip. With her hair fanned around her, patch coming loose, you’re swept up in the moment. You _want_ her — so bad that you ache, like you hadn’t before.

Rest on her, low on her hips. Feel the pressure, just there. How she tenses under you at that contact. You watch how her eye narrows, and you kiss her before she can comment. Say it again. “I want _you_.” Breaking up words with contact, kissing along her jaw. “I _need_ you.

“In me…” trail off, judging her reaction.

How she swallows, deeply, draws out the seconds. You can feel the clockwork of her mind in yours, finding the resolution. The understanding. The _oh_ that resounds, and her body burns under you. “If… you’re sure.”

“I am, if you are.”

The way she nods nearly clocks you in the face, and you have to laugh. Squeeze her tight, letting it all pour out. When you pull back, sitting up, you watch how she takes a deep breath. A shaky smile. Her hands leave your skin, and you do not think she was doubling back. Nat’s mind reassures you of that. No, this was something deeply, equally, personal.

You wait as patiently as you can, as she fiddles with the tie of her patch. Whilst it was loose, you had left it. That was her step forward. The scars underneath were not unknown to you, not by any means. But Nat holds the patch in one fist, out wide. You take that hand, kiss along her fingers, her knuckles.

Gentle in how you hold her, encouraging her to let go. And Nat is watching you, the entire time, as you take the patch in your hands now, her fingers loose in your grip. A kiss to it, before you settle it carefully to the side.

Leaning down, you kiss her thrice. Her lips, her nose, her scarred eye. Linger just there, on the patchwork skin, cupping her face in your hands. Thumbs stroking her cheeks, as you move to pepper a light touch along her eye. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

With a pause, Nat rolls you on your side, following suit not long after. Legs tangled with each other, chest to chest. Your lips find each other, murmurs against skin, thanks and pleases. Her hands are the first to move this time. Along the dip and curve of your side, settling low on your hips. Thumbing at the material of your underwear, and you help her to pull it down.

Her turn. Nat lets you move her, although your hands are careful as they move. Eyes on her face, and you follow the material down, kissing down her thighs, over her knees. Discarding her underwear in a pile with your own, and you push yourself back up, resting beside her once more.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she mumbles, and you watch as she turns herself. Not quite covering, threads of embarrassment slowly burning up, and you quickly drop your eyes to see how she’s turned her hips.

“Couldn’t help it — I love your legs.” And with that sentiment, you trace them with your hands once more, resting at the backs of her knees. Pulling her closer _just_ there.

Against your stomach, you can feel the press of her cock. Nat’s mind does not give away any discomfort, but you do not move. Nose to nose. Stare into her eye.

Nat speaks first. “Can I touch you?”

You nod, and don’t mean to appear so eager when her hands continue south. Arc your leg, knee facing the ceiling, as her fingers brush against your lips. “You can touch me, if you want.”

Consent. Acknowledgement. With the softest touch against your cunt, Nat does not look at you. Down, between the both of you, where your bodies are nearly joined. When you touch her, stroke along her cock, you watch her face curl, how her eye squeezes shut. Can feel the burn of thoughts, and pluck out the positive from the rest. Feels good. It’s okay. Safety and peace.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and your foreheads find each other. Let her hear it all.

Her fingers work along you, not quite pushing in, but they find your clit and you shudder. In turn, you follow the along the underside, loose grip, swallow the soft moan as it happens. Feather light touches, the both of you. Like a nudge, slowly pulling you forward. You want to keep your thighs together, when she finally presses in. A finger that curls along your walls, and you push back. Feel her work, in and out, thumb pressed against your clit.

Two hands for you now. Thumbing the tip of her cock, trying not to close your eyes so you can judge her reaction. Watch for the way she twitches, how soft noises leave her. Firmer strokes, working her up and down. She’s turned her hips out, open, giving you room to touch. Her thighs are shaking, and you watch as she presses her heels into the bed. Another finger joins the first in you, and you groan against her shoulder.

But Nat’s hands leave you, and you hear her, “Logan, wait.”

Eyes snap up, and you let her go in a smooth movement. Enough for now? You pose the question. We don’t have to continue. A hand resting over her chest, and you ignore the stickiness of your fingers.

That’s not what it was. Especially not, when Nat has a somewhat sheepish expression on her face. “No, I’m—uh… _close_.”

Oh, _oh_. You do give her a quick look down, and blink away the heavy rose that had settled in your mind. The flush that spread down her chest, and how it heaves under your hand should’ve been clue enough. But her cock sits red, and it takes a bit of effort to drag your eyes back up.

There’s a different smile on her lips now. Still warm, but honeyed and gone before you can comment. She kisses you deeply, her hands returning to touch you, two fingers sliding in with ease. Spreading you as she scissors, and your hand joins her, rubbing at your clit.

“What about you?” you ask, between breaths. Pump of her fingers in you, and you almost welcome the third with ease. Spread your legs. Deep sigh.

“In a sec,” she’s murmuring, pressing against you now. “Are you close?”

“Mmm.” You’re twitchy. Keep touching, you think. Find her mouth. Hold her hand just there. “I want you, Natalya.”

The words come out around a moan, and you bite her lip. Pull between your teeth, heavy lidded eyes barely making out her face. “Please.”

Nat inhales deeply, and it comes out shaky. Fingers free of you, and you can feel the slick of them against your side. _How do you want to do this?_ an echo against your mind. But you are languid and loose, half a dozen scenarios popping up, and each one has Nat burn a little deeper.

“You choose.” Place the moment in her hands. Find her gaze, hold her there. _I want you to lead_.

There’s a twinge in her mind. A rolling of a thought, and you follow it through. Nat bites her lip, as you can hear the hesitations right there. Brush them away.

“Nat… you won’t hurt me.”

“Al—alright.”

You lay back, but push yourself towards the pillows. She follows a few steps behind, helping you with one under your hips. Propping you up. You grin, then, as her fingers are still so careful not to stray too far, while you pull her down, one last kiss. She’s tender, a hand brushing against your jaw, cradling you there. Safe and secure.

Nat deepens the kiss. Slide of tongue against yours, and it’s easy to get lost in the feeling. How she leans over you, leaning on her arms as she presses down. Like a switch flicked in her, and the confidence fills your mind. Makes you a little daring, in how you nip and pull at her lower lip.

Bold, that’s what you consider. Bold and brave, in how she pushes your knees open. Tension, still there, tight around her eye. You don’t think it would truly go away. But it doesn’t stop Nat from easing into you. Filling you, and your nails leave half moons on her shoulders.

Meeting her halfway is like a two-step dance, one you feel like you’ve done before. And she’s careful, _oh so careful_ , in how she moves, how she thinks. How she kisses you, shuddering out breath.

You want her to push. It’s a thought that you embrace, and you’re not sure if it was your own. Glides across your mind, as if it was barely a suggestion altogether. But you grasp it, take it, drag your tongue up Nat’s neck, over the dip of her throat. _Push_.

Methodical movements are left at the door. Nat brushes out to you, an _are you sure?,_ are you certain? Is this what you want? And you have to lean back against the worry. “Whatever you want, Natalya. I am yours.”

“And me, you.”

There is still a sense of reverence, in how she pushes your knees up. You hold them against your chest then, exposed and open. Wanting. Nat guides herself in once more. One last flick of eyes, just to be safe. You nod, because your voice fails you, at the feel of her all over again.

Her hands press against the backs of your thighs, holding you there, as she moves. Brow furrowed, such a serious expression, that you want to kiss away. But her pace picks up, and a smile grows, one that curls warm in your gut. Enough to have you shift, wanting to touch, to move.

You settle for a hand between the two of you, touching where you join. Nat lets out a soft sigh, and almost smacks your hand out of the way. Pushes your leg higher, further. Straining the muscles in a way you can’t remember having done before, but those thoughts are momentary. With her weight bearing down on you, thrusting in deeper still, you wrap your free leg around her waist. Wider still.

And you’re curved. Back arched, trying to press up against her. Feel the thrum of her heart against your chest, the soft pants at your ear. Nat’s grip doesn’t slack, not even once, even if her thrusts grow choppy, erratic. Close, so close. An echo that escapes your lips. “Touch me,” you whisper to the ceiling.

Her teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder, moan smothered by your skin. Hand furious between you. Is it yours? Hers? But it touches you in a way that has you twitch, clinging close. Nails digging in too deep, dragging from her hips to her shoulders, in a way you’ll still be able to see by morning. Hold her against you, so fiercely, that you might as well sink into her bones.

Natalya. Natalya. _Natalya_. The only word that makes sense. All you can feel, as she pushes into you once, twice, thrice more. A kiss on your lips, for good luck. If she whispers your name, only the walls would know, as you feel her stiffen against you. There might even be an apology there, but it does not matter.

You follow mere seconds later, a crashing sensation that doesn't want to let go. Down to Earth. Has you hold her, so tight, fingers not quite letting go. When you open your eyes, you have to blink away the stars. Find her face.

And you grin so easily. Even though your muscles ache, and she eases your leg back down with some effort. Even as she softens in you, not quite ready to move, your smile does not fade. Nat is messy hair and flushed cheeks, never quite looking anywhere other than you. She can’t stick to one location long enough, and you press your lips to the corner of her mouth.

“Thank you for this. For trusting me.”

“Logan…”

“I mean it.”

When she moves, finally, carefully, to land on her side in the mass of pillows, there’s a moment. Fleeting in its strength, but the pull is great. “Thank you for having me.” All of me, is what that moment says, means. You let it wash over you, let her feel what it means to be. To love.

Skin cools, and your hands find each other. A squeeze of fingers, as there was nothing more to say. Your eyelids dip low, the threat of sleep burrowing at your mind, when Nat squeezes back. And you smile once more, into the press against your lips. 


End file.
